


you're the cream in my coffee

by mae428



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Five Times, M/M, Meet-Cute, Office Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23755528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mae428/pseuds/mae428
Summary: Five times Timmy got Armie undrinkable coffee and one time Armie actually got what he wanted.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 308
Kudos: 231





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Hope you're all keeping safe and healthy. I've been working on this for a while now and it's finally done! It's 6 chapters total and I'll be posting one chapter per day :) Also, yes, I'll be getting back to Moment's Sunlight and Poetry in Motion, I promise! xoxo

“Dude, thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem, all part of the job. And by the time we have another new hire, you’ll be the expert.”

“Shit, I dunno about that.” Timmy rubs the back of his neck, a flush settling high on his cheeks.

Armie smiles and shrugs. “Nah, you totally will. I know all these processes seem really daunting now, but I promise once you do them a few times, it’ll be old hat.”

Armie had been at Ronan & Gerwig for three years at that point. The startup, launched by two incredible (and badass, if anyone asked Armie) women, saw incredible growth over its first year and was now a booming business, complete with their own two floors in a midtown highrise. Armie was a Senior Coordinator and the noted expert on all things business operations. Part of his job was to train new employees on their various programs: time card approval, freelance payment, onboarding, equipment ordering to name a few. He remembers being a new employee well, always having to ask questions and bother his fellow colleagues to help him until he finally got the hang of it. It was rewarding, in a way, to watch his little fledglings figure out the world of R&G before finally flying on their own.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely have to ask you a thousand questions the next time one of these payment requests comes through.”

“Let me know when you’ve got another and we’ll tackle it together. I _swear_ it gets easier.”

“Right. Well, thanks, Armie. You’ve been awesome.” Timmy is all smiles again as he pushes a curl behind his ear. Just as Armie is about to turn around, Timmy grabs his arm. “Hey, wait! Just wondering. If uhh...If I happen to go up to the coffee bar at some point, what do you like? Anything in particular? A snack, a drink? To thank you for all your help.”

Armie laughs and shakes his head. “Oh please, nothing. Anything, really, but nothing. You don’t have to do that.”

“Mmhm, sure. But I don’t think you’ll be saying that when I’m bothering you every second of the day.”

Armie can’t keep the smile off his face as he heads back to his own desk. This new hire is _adorable_ , there’s no other word for it. He remembers when Timmy came in to interview. After, during coffee with Saoirse, the Ronan of R&G, she said he’d make an incredible addition to the team. That he was lively and gregarious and personable and obviously a hard worker. Armie trusted Saoirse completely and found that her assessment of Timmy was totally correct. He was 25, two years younger than Armie, and fresh off three years at a large media company where he had started right after college. But it was clear he was going to fit right in at R&G, even down to his quirky sense of style.

As Armie settled into his desk chair, he opened Slack and tapped out a message to Florence, one of his fellow coordinators.

> **_AH  
> _ **Have you met the new kid yet?
> 
> **_FP  
> _ **OMG ARMIE YES HE IS SO CUTE 😍
> 
> **_AH  
> _ ** 😂  
> Yes, that. And nice, too. Three of us should grab lunch sometime
> 
> **_FP  
> _ **Ayyyyyy Armieeee I see you makin moves 😏
> 
> **_AH  
> _ **SHUT UP GOODBYE

It’s not until 3 pm that he hears from Timmy again, this time in the form of an email.

> **From:** Chalamet, Timothée <Timothee.Chalamet@rg.com>  
>  **Sent:** Monday, February 3, 2020 3:02 PM  
>  **To:** Hammer, Armie <Armie.Hammer@rg.com>  
>  **Subject:** Fw: New Employee Equipment Request
> 
> Armie -- see below. HELP!!!
> 
> Timothée Chalamet  
> Business Operations Coordinator, Ronan & Gerwig  
> 212.746.0220

Armie chuckles and heads over to Timmy’s desk, where the kid is perched on his chair, sorting through a pile of papers. “New hire already?”

“Yep,” Timmy sighs, looking despondent. Armie gets a whiff of chemically manufactured cinnamon and realizes Timmy is chewing cinnamon gum. He must see the flicker across Armie’s face because he holds out the packet. “Want a piece?”

“Nah, not much of a cinnamon gum guy.”

“Oh! I’ve got this!” Timmy produces a pack of Orbit Wintermint, which just so happens to be Armie’s favorite. He says as much, accepting the proffered piece, and hopes that this will provide an answer to Timmy’s earlier question. Armie can’t live without gum, despite his dentist’s reminders that it rips out enamel, and wouldn’t mind a free pack for helping out a new hire.

He works through the order request with Timmy, watching as the kid takes detailed notes in his notebook, cocking his head a bit at the way Timmy loops his _f_ s. They talk through the process after the order is placed and Armie is even more assured that Timmy’s absolutely gonna kill it at R&G.

“Sorry we’re inundating you with so much work off the ground,” Armie says. “The last coordinator left pretty unexpectedly to move abroad with her husband, so we were kinda in a tough spot with finding someone.”

“No, it’s cool, actually. How am I supposed to learn if I’m not actually doing stuff hands-on?”

“Exactly. Anything else while you’ve got me over here?” Armie jokes, returning Timmy’s smile.

“Nope, all good. For now, at least.”

When Armie doesn’t hear from Timmy for the rest of the afternoon, he can’t say he’s not disappointed. The kid is endearing, and Armie has a strange desire to learn everything about him. He really needs to make that lunch date.

The next afternoon, around 1, his phone buzzes with a new Slack notification. He takes his eyes off his monitor for a second to glance down at his phone, immediately ceasing all work on the freelance budget report to respond to Timmy.

> **_TC  
> _ **hey Armie!
> 
> **_AH  
> _ **Hello!!
> 
> **_TC  
> _ ** Do you drink caramel macchiatos?  
> I have an extra one

Armie wrinkles his nose. He absolutely does _not_ drink caramel macchiatos. He’s more of an iced latte guy. Or a cappuccino if he’s in the mood for something hot. But coffee is coffee, and maybe Timmy ventured to the fancy cafe on the ground level.

> **_AH  
> _ ** Hahaha  
> Only if you really don’t mind giving it up!
> 
> **_TC  
> _ **not at all!
> 
> **_AH  
> _ **It’ll save me a coffee run!

Timmy is at Armie’s desk in a second, coffee in hand. His cheeks are pink from the cold and he’s wrapped up in a hat and scarf.

“Cold out?” Armie asks, brows raised as Timmy places the cup on his desk. He sees a Starbucks logo and his heart sinks. No way is Armie gonna like this coffee.

“Freezing,” Timmy responds, but he’s still smiling.

“Thanks for the coffee, Tim.”

Timmy laughs and shrugs. “No worries.”

Armie is just about to take a sip when his phone buzzes with a new notification from Timmy.

> **_TC  
> _ **it got quite cold on the walk over here, hope you don’t mind.
> 
> **_AH  
> _ **No problem at all 😊

Armie finally takes his first tentative sip and wants to immediately spit it out. _Oh god_ , Armie thinks, _who could drink this, even when it’s not lukewarm?_ It’s sickeningly sweet, so much so that it almost makes his teeth hurt. The coffee leaves an acrid taste in the back of his mouth and he’s reaching for his water bottle in an instant. Armie leaves the Starbucks cup at the top of his desk, steadily ignoring the cursed cup. He’s finally back in a good work groove when Flo approaches his desk. He sighs and pushes himself back from his desk.

“What can I do for you, Ms. Pugh?”

“Mr. Hammer,” Flo returns in her gravelly British accent. She’s insanely gorgeous, all curves and blonde hair and big eyes with impeccable fashion. Today it’s flared tartan pants and a black turtleneck, paired with shoes so high Armie isn’t sure how she doesn’t break her neck. “I’ve noticed that you and a certain new employee both have Starbucks cups on your desk.”

“So what? Plenty of people go to Starbucks.”

“Yes, but I know for a fact that one Mr. Armie Hammer prefers Bluestone when in the workplace.”

Armie rolls his eyes. “Fine, yes, he had an extra as part of his order and he offered it to me.”

Flo breaks out into a triumphant grin. “Cappuccino?”

“Ugh, no. A caramel macchiato.”

“I’d never thought I’d see the day that Armie Hammer drank a caramel macchiato.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t it’s all still in the cup there.”

Florence tips her head back and laughs, a hand clutching her heart. “Oh god, Sersh and Greta are going to fucking love this.”

“Love what?” Armie asks after Florence’s retreating back. “Love _what_ , Flo?”

“Later, Hammer!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for all the wonderful comments on chapter one! Hope you guys continue to enjoy this story :)

Armie is just stepping off the subway when his phone buzzes. He pulls it out, grinning when he sees a Slack from Timmy.

> **_TC  
> _ ** don’t get coffee this AM --  
> check your desk 😊

Armie just smiles and rolls his eyes fondly as he strolls into the lobby. He scans in and then presses the button for the elevator, his mind wandering to Timmy. He’s been working at R&G for a week now, and he’s been absolutely killing it. He knows they stuck him with a hard team with a lot of responsibilities, but Timmy is taking it all in stride. He’s a quick learner and always so appreciative of Armie’s help. Not that Armie minds, that is. He actually _enjoys_ talking with Timmy.

He strolls over to his desk only to find it coffee-free. He has to laugh at that as he hangs up his coat and settles in. He’s in even before the new kid. Figures. As he boots up his computer, there’s a flurry in his peripheral and suddenly Timmy is barreling in, scarf around his neck and hat half on his head.

“Hi! Hi, sorry.” He places another Starbucks cup down on Armie’s desk.

“No reason to apologize.” He’s about to ask if Tim had a good weekend, but he’s off toward his desk in another flurry.

Armie closes his eyes for a brief moment before reaching for the cup. At least it’s hot this time. He pulls down the cardboard sleeve, letting out the smallest groan when he sees the sticker on the cup. _Tall caramel macchiato_. Jesus Christ, he’s never gonna get out of this. He takes a sip, thinking maybe it’ll be better hot. _God_ no, still sweet. He takes another, hoping that he can maybe get some sort of decent coffee flavor underneath all the sugar. Nope. That bad taste is back and no matter how many swigs of water he takes, Armie just can’t get his mouth to taste normal again.

So, he heads down to his usual coffee place and picks up an iced latte, sighing at the taste of _good_ espresso.

Timmy, as luck would have it, is working with a team member who is sitting just a few desks down from Armie. As he sips his latte, Armie makes a big show of clinking the ice around in the plastic cup, hoping to send some subliminal messages Timmy’s way. There’s no acknowledgment of the iced drink, the Starbucks cup from earlier in the morning sitting abandoned in the corner of Armie’s desk. He only has to help Timmy with one thing that afternoon and, seeing as his day has been slow, he pops by Saoirse’s office, happy to find that she’s free.

“Armie,” she coos, getting up from her desk chair to sit on the couch instead. “Come.” She pats the cushion next to her and Armie settles down with a contented sigh. They’ve become close over the three years, more friends than boss and employee, so Armie feels right at home in Saoirse’s calming office. “How’s it going? Feel like I haven’t seen you since Greta and I got back from that conference in San Fran.”

“Honestly, that’s probably it. Been busy?”

Saoirse groans and tips her head back. “You’ve no idea. How’ve things here been?”

Armie grins and shrugs one shoulder. “Good. That new hire? Timmy? He’s great.” Armie is trying to make himself sound cool and casual and he hopes Saoirse can’t pick up on his excitement.

“Oooh, isn’t he? I knew him in college, actually. We were pretty good friends, both in the theatre department. We went our separate ways after college but it’s nice to have him around. He’s got endless energy, I swear.” Then Saoirse smirks and Armie’s stomach dips. “Flo mentioned he got you a coffee the other day. Lemme guess, caramel macchiato?”

“Yep.”

At Armie’s grim reply, Saoirse laughs again, a lilting and pretty sound to offset Armie’s pout. “Oh, I am so sorry. I don’t know how he drinks those things.”  
  
“Yeah, neither do I. But I can’t tell him now. He’s too nice.”

“Are we talking about Timo?” Armie looks over his shoulder to see Greta in the doorway, clad in an olive green jumpsuit. “About the coffee?”

“Jesus Christ!” Armie throws up his arms, nearly whacking Saoirse in the face. “Does everyone in the office know about this?”

“Yes,” Greta says, with utmost glee. She plops herself down at Saoirse’s desk and spins in the chair to face them. “So, are you gonna ask him out?”  
  
“What?!” Armie splutters, at a total loss for words. His bosses are asking if he’s going to ask the new hire on a date. In what world is he living? There’s no doubt Greta and Sersh are cool; he definitely has an actual friendship with them. But he can’t quite believe it. “I’m not --”

“Well, you should,” Saoirse says, as though she’s advising on a business decision, with an undercurrent of persuasive power. “I happen to know that Timmy is _exactly_ your type.”

Armie tilts his head back and groans. Fuck this. Fuck having a friendship with your boss. Fuck always going out and getting drinks with them. “I hate you both.”

There’s a tap on the door and Armie looks up just in time to see Florence hop in. She’s wearing fitted jeans with strappy blue heels that are to die for and Armie wonders why everyone in this office is so damn fashionable. “Talking about Armie’s new crush?”

“Oh my god!” he cries out as the women giggle. He pushes himself up off the couch and glares at the three of them. “I hate you all. I’m going to do _work_ since this is an _office_ , just in case you all forgot.”

Armie huffs and storms off, noticing how Saoirse closes her door after, probably to keep their gossip about him quiet. He settles himself into his seat and glares at his computer, trying to just get through the rest of the afternoon. Less than a minute later, he has a new email.

> **From:** Ronan, Saoirse <Saoirse.Ronan@rg.com>  
>  **Sent:** Monday, February 10, 2020 2:38 PM  
>  **To:** Hammer, Armie <Armie.Hammer@rg.com>; Gerwig, Greta <Greta.Gerwig@rg.com>  
>  **Subject:** YOUR NEW CRUSH
> 
> Armie -- some helpful tips:
> 
>   * Timmy LOVES theatre and is a huge movie buff
>   * He’s into rap and his fave artist is Kid Cudi
>   * His dad’s side is French, so don’t take him for French food unless it’s actually good
>   * Loves sweets but is usually found surrounded by pistachio shells
>   * Adores big, brawny men with blond hair and blue eyes
> 

> 
> LOVE YA!
> 
> Saoirse Ronan  
> Founder, CEO, All Around Genius  
> 212.746.3525

He huffs and immediately trashes the email. He takes a breath and tries to get back to his normal afternoon routine. Of course, Timmy has a thousand questions and ends up taking a seat at Armie’s desk. With how close he’s sitting, Armie can smell Timmy’s cologne, or maybe it’s his shampoo clinging to his curls. Whatever it is, Timmy smells delicious; he smells like peaches and jasmine with a hint of something muskier. Armie leans a bit closer than necessary to look at Timmy’s computer just to pick up a hint of caramel. He wonders if Timmy enjoys the scent or if he’s just permanently scented as thus due to the number of macchiatos he consumes. He also finds himself staring too long at Timmy’s lips or his eyes or the sharp curve of his jaw or the long column of his neck.

Fuck. Armie is so fucked. As soon as Timmy goes back to his desk, Armie moves Saoirse’s email to his “Never Delete” folder, against his better judgment.

He drags himself home at the end of the day, his mind reverting back to Timmy every other second. He tries to distract himself with music or with finding the hottest man on the subway or with a New York Times article about a wartime photographer, but nothing can take his mind off the new kid. He’s alluring, that’s for sure, and Armie finds himself wondering if Tim might even like him too.

Things aren’t much different by the time he gets home. He’s still thinking about Timmy even as he works through his post-work routine. “This is stupid,” he says as he tosses a piece of salmon in a pan. His dog, Archie, comes padding out of his bedroom with a yawn. “No, this isn’t for you, bud,” he says, looking down at the dog sitting patiently at his feet. “You’ll get your dinner, fatso, just gimme a second, ok?” It’s said in the most loving voice and he even reaches down to give Arch a scritch behind the ears. “I wonder if Timmy likes dogs,” Armie says to himself as he flips the salmon. Two minutes on each side should be a perfect medium-rare before he can cook off his leeks and tomatoes. “God, listen to yourself, Hammer. You sound like a teenager.”

The next day, despite his best efforts, Armie still finds himself thinking about Timmy. As he walks into the office, he finds himself searching his desk for a coffee cup, but to no avail. One glance across the office confirms that Tim is in, as he can see a fluffy mop of curls peeking up from Timmy’s desk. Armie settles in after hanging up his coat and fiddles with his phone while his computer boots up.

“Fuck it,” he mutters to himself as he opens Slack.

> **_AH  
> _ **Hey Flo. You free for lunch today?
> 
> **_FP  
> _ ** Hellllll yeah  
> 12.30?  
> Can you make rezzo?
> 
> **_AH  
> _ ** Yep  
> I’m inviting Timmy
> 
> **_FP  
> _ **YES YES YES YES YES!

Armie has to laugh at that and he makes a reservation at a nearby Japanese place for 3. It’s good, fresh food, one of his favorites near the office, and he finds himself radiating with excitement as he opens up his Slack messages with Timmy.

> **_AH  
> _ **If you’re around at 12.30 join me and Flo for lunch @ Hatsuhana 😊

It’s a full hour before Timmy replies, during which Armie refreshes his Slack messages every minute, wondering if something’s wrong with the building’s WiFi. Finally, at 12:28, just as he and Flo are walking outside, his phone buzzes.

> **_TC  
> _ ** id love to but i cant today  
> thanks so much for asking though!

Armie tries not to let the pang of disappointment hit too hard. He takes a deep breath of cold February air, letting it fill his lungs. He listens as Flo chats about her plans for the week, his mind half on her, half on Timmy. Was he weirded out by the request? Is he really busy with the team? Does he feel uncomfortable in the work environment? _It’s silly to get hung up about this_ , he tells himself, trying to shake the strange feeling. He doesn’t realize that they’ve made it to the restaurant until the hostess is asking for his name. “Oh, Armie Hammer. I have a reservation for 3, but it’s just the two of us.” He turns his back on Flo as they’re led to their table, trying to convince himself that she didn’t look disappointed as well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so enjoying everyone's responses so far!! Halfway through :) Love y'all xx

Armie can't believe that Timmy has been at the company for 3 weeks now. He's been asking Armie fewer questions, now getting the hang of all their processes. Armie is happy for the kid, really. He's glad Timmy is getting into a groove, especially since the position is so rigorous, but he misses the multiple visits from Timmy per day. Now it's just a quick Slack or a hello in the hall. Armie hates to say he misses Timmy but...there he is, missing Timmy.

He hasn't gotten a caramel macchiato since the second one, though, which Armie takes as a good sign. It doesn't stop him from ordering practically anything else -- iced matcha lattes, iced coffees, you name it -- in hopes that Timmy will confront him about it. 

"You're a fucking idiot," Armie says to himself as he sips his beetroot latte. It's not the first time he's expressed this sentiment and it most certainly won't be the last.

That weekend, he meets up with his college buddy Nick. They go to an Italian place downtown every Sunday, a little restaurant owned by Nick's cousin's girlfriend's godfather, or something like that. Luca, the owner, always treats them to the best pasta dishes, even ones not advertised on the menu. He usually selects an Italian film to show during dinner and this night is no exception, _The Wonders_ playing on a screen behind the bar.

"Lasagna for Niki," Luca says as he places a bubbling terra cotta dish on the table. "Tagliolini with prosciutto and parmigiano for my Armie." Luca squeezes his shoulder, a comforting gesture as if Armie's internal struggle is on full display. He guesses it must be, though, because then Nick is opening his stupid mouth. 

"So what's up dude? You seem…off."

"Nah, it's nothing," Armie claims, twirling a bit of pasta around his fork.

"I've known you for a thousand years," Nick says, mouth full. "Don't bullshit me, Hammer."

Armie grimaces down at his plate and puts down his fork, his stomach twisting into knots. “Okay, it’s really stupid though.”

“Armie, we went to college together. The amount of stupid shit I’ve seen you do far outweighs anything you could possibly be going through now.”

And yeah, that’s fair, because Nick _did_ witness him at many a frat party. “Fine,” Armie relents. “There’s a new guy at work. Timmy. And he’s really cute and I might be developing a tiny crush on him even though I have no idea if he likes me or if he’s even single at all, because how could someone that nice and that gorgeous ever be single? And he keeps buying me caramel macchiatos. Well, it was only twice, but I feel like I can’t ever say anything about it and how am I supposed to start a friendship, let alone a relationship, by lying about my coffee preferences?”   
  
“Whoa, Armie, dude.” Nick is laughing as he reaches for the bottle of wine to top off Armie’s glass. “Let’s take it one thing at a time, yeah? How come you can’t correct your coffee order?”

“Because I feel bad? I don’t want it to seem like I’m making fun of his coffee choices because I think both the drink _and_ Starbucks are disgusting.”

“Okay, fair. So why don’t you ask him for lunch or something and try to get to know him a little better?”  
  
“I _tried that_ already,” Armie argues. “I was going out to lunch with Flo and asked him to tag along and he said he was busy. Clearly he doesn’t want anything to do with me outside of work. Or he hates me because I don’t drink his coffees.”

“Hey, ever think he was actually busy?” Nick prods after a sip of wine. “He did just start a new job, you know. With a lot of responsibilities.”

Armie deflates a bit and is quiet as he chews his next bite of pasta. He hadn’t really given that option much thought. He remembers Timmy had been drowning a bit that week, perhaps he really was just swamped and couldn’t step away. “I guess that could be it.”

“You’re such a dipshit,” Nick says, but it’s fond. He kicks Armie under the table, which earns Nick a glare. “Ask him for coffee tomorrow, okay? This way you can get to know him _and_ get your order right all in one go.”

“Fine.” Armie nods and takes a big gulp of wine, as if the liquid courage now will help him the next day. “Fine, yes. I will.”

The next morning, Armie braces himself before opening Slack. It takes him fifteen minutes to even open his chat with Timmy before he can tap out a message

> **_AH  
> _ **Hey! You wanna grab coffee this morning?
> 
> **_TC  
> _ **definitely! gimme 2 min?
> 
> **_AH  
> _ **You got it. Meet you at the elevators.

As soon as Armie presses send, he bolts to the bathroom, checking over his hair and making sure he doesn’t have toothpaste on his cheek or a poppyseed in his teeth. He gives his sweater a quick sniff, glad to find it just smells like detergent. He tries to casually stroll out to the elevator bank where Timmy is waiting for him.

“Hey, man,” Timmy greets with a small wave and a smile. “Thanks for asking me for coffee. I could really use a caffeine jolt.”

“Same.” Armie presses the button for the lobby and then turns to Timmy. “Good weekend?”  
  
“Yeah, I met up with some friends from high school, actually. It was cool.” As Timmy begins regaling Armie with his weekend tales, Armie can’t help but walk a little closer. He has every intention of steering them toward his preferred coffee shop, but he is so engrossed in what Tim is saying that he doesn’t realize they’re at Starbucks until they’re next in line.

“Two caramel macchiatos, please,” Timmy says brightly, giving Armie a warm smile. “On me.”

“No, no, I asked you out, let me get my own at least.”

“Nope!” And then it’s too late, Tim is already swiping his card and paying for Armie’s most hated concoction.

They decide to sit in the cafe area, continuing to chat over their coffees. Armie has to force himself to take a few sips as they talk. He learns that Tim grew up in the city, in Hell's Kitchen, and that his family is still in the area, except for his sister who now lives in Paris. He also learns that Tim is a French citizen and spent many summers of his childhood there. They talk about Armie growing up in Dallas, the Caymans, and in LA before they move onto college and what they majored in. By the time Timmy has finished his coffee, Armie feels like he knows Tim’s entire life story. Which he’s totally fine with.

“This was great,” Timmy gushes as they head back to the elevators. Armie hopes Tim didn’t notice how full his cup was when he tossed it, but Armie couldn’t force down more than a few sips. “Thanks for hanging. And for letting me talk your ear off.”

“Nah, it was good. I had fun learning about you, Lil Timmy Tim.”

Timmy groans and shakes his head, his curls falling into his eyes. “Oh, god. I never should have told you about that.”

“Too late now.”

Later that week, during a staff meeting, Armie is sure to come equipped with a large iced coffee, parking it within Timmy’s view on the conference table. He hopes that this time, the message will come across.


	4. Chapter 4

Timmy’s time at the company is flying and, before Armie knows it, it’s mid-April. He and Timmy have grown incredibly close, Timmy even joining in on some after-work cocktails with the team. They talk every single day at work, sometimes even texting about random shit on the weekends.

He’s learned that Timmy is indeed single (he’s shared that he is too, which didn’t result in any grand romantic gestures), so Armie figures that, despite their easy camaraderie, Timmy would prefer an out of office romance.

That is, until April 24th.

It’s just an ordinary Friday. Armie goes to his usual 8 am Pilates class before work and walks into the office feeling stretched out and light on his feet. It’s sunny, light streaming in from the large windows behind his desk. The morning comes and goes. Armie takes his time getting lunch, indulging in a fancy salad since it’s the end of the workweek and he deserves it, dammit. He continues on with his totally normal day.

Until around 3 when Timmy comes bounding toward his desk. The kid always seems to be bouncing on his toes, hair flying everywhere, eyes bright and shining. He comes to a stop at Armie’s desk, wearing a sheepish grin.

“Hello,” Armie says, swiveling in his chair to face Timmy. “How goes it?”

“Goo-ood,” Timmy sing-songs, rocking on his feet.

Armie laughs and gently kicks Timmy’s shin. “What’s up, Chalamet?”

“Hey! These are new!” Tim cries out, dusting off the non-existent mark on his light wash jeans. They grin at each other and Armie rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I was coming to ask you a question.

“Oh? What about? Something with --” Armie gestures at his computer but Timmy shakes his head furiously, curls flying.

“No, no. I um…” He clears his throat and tips his head back, blinking up at the fluorescent lights. 

Armie shifts in his chair, waiting patiently for Timmy to continue. What he’s realized as he’s gotten to know Timmy is that sometimes it takes him a second to get all his thoughts in order. Or, sometimes, all of his thoughts will just come tumbling out with no filter and no hesitation. So, Armie gives him a second.

“I was wondering if maybe...you’dliketogoonadatewithme?”

Armie can’t quite catch what Tim says, so he leans forward a little, craning his neck up in an attempt to hear better. “You were -- _what_?”

Timmy makes a small sound of desperation and shoves his hands into his pockets. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I was wondering…” He starts off slower this time and takes in a deep breath, chest puffing out. “If you’d like to...go on...a date with me? Maybe this weekend or something? But you totally don’t have to, man, I get it. Like, I’m just me and you’re...you’re _you_ and we work together and we’ve started to become friends and stuff but I like you? And I think you’re really cool and nice, but like I said, totally no pressure or anything you can totally say no, and --”

“Timmy,” Armie says, voice low, clearly leaving no room for Timmy to continue. There’s that unfiltered stream of consciousness. “I would love to go out on a date with you,” he says, not quite believing that this is a real conversation. He subtly pinches his forearm, and it hurts, so he figures this isn’t some sort of hallucination. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Tim says, all breathless and stunned. He’s looking down at Armie with eyes so wide, Armie is afraid they might pop out of his head.

“Cool. What did you have in mind?” Armie can’t quite comprehend that he’s keeping his cool in this situation, especially considering he’s wanted to take Timmy out on a date for the longest time, but he needs to nail down the details before celebrating.

“Uhh, geez, I dunno, I was kinda thinking you were going to say no so I didn’t even get that far ahead.”

Armie laughs and takes a moment to think. “Do you just want to meet up in the park or something? I think the weather is supposed to be really nice this weekend. I could bring Archie along.”

“Yes!” Timmy says immediately, head snapping up. “Yes, that sounds perfect. You bring Archie and I bring coffees?”

Armie’s stomach swoops at that, just knowing that Timmy will show up with more macchiatos. He’s about to say something, about to request an iced coffee, but he decides to give Timmy the benefit of the doubt. “Perfect. How’s around 11? We can go for lunch after.”

“Works for me. Text me a place to meet?”  
  
“Will do.”

At Armie’s confirmation, Timmy looks at him from under his lashes, swaying a bit on the spot. “Thanks for saying yes.”

“Thanks for asking me. Now back to work, Chalamet.”

Tim hesitates for a second before bounding back toward his desk, curls bouncing. Armie watches him, amused, and feels his cheeks heat up when Florence’s head pops up over her desk. She looks at him with narrowed eyes and he tries to slink into his seat as best he can. But, of course, she comes marching over.

“What was that about?” she asks, arms crossed over her chest.

“Nothing…”  
  
“Don’t bullshit me, Hammer.”

“Oh my God,” Armie moans, “this is supposed to be a place of business!”

“Are you two _fucking_ ?”  
  
Armie chokes on his own spit and splutters a bit before he can answer. “ _No_ !” he hisses, looking absolutely scandalized. _Not yet_ , his mind supplies which is _really_ not helpful right now.

“So what is it then?”

“He asked me on a date,” Armie mumbles; his answer grants him a hard punch on the arm. “Ow! What the fuck?”

“Fucking _finally_.”

Before Armie can get another word in Florence is off toward Saoirse’s office. She slides the door closed just as Sersh tips her head back and cackles. Armie grumbles as he sits back down at his desk, but his conversation with Timmy keeps coming back to him, making Armie smile so hard his cheeks start to hurt.

> **From:** Gerwig, Greta <Greta.Gerwig@rg.com>  
>  **Sent:** Friday, April 24, 2020 3:22 PM  
>  **To:** Hammer, Armie <Armie.Hammer@rg.com>  
>  **CC:** Pugh, Florence <Florence.Pugh@rg.com>; Ronan, Saoirse <Saoirse.Ronan@rg.com>; Garrel, Esther <Esther.Garrel@rg.com>; Norton, James <James.Norton@rg.com>   
>  **Subject: 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉**
> 
> CONGRATULATIONS, ARMIE! IT FINALLY HAPPENED! GOOD LUCK ON YOUR DATE! Drinks on me when they’re finally engaged!
> 
> All the best,  
>  Greta Gerwig  
>  Founder, CEO, All Around Geniusier Than My Wife  
>  212.746.8916

When he gets home that night, Armie is filled with sudden dread. What is he going to wear? Is it going to suck? Will they run out of things to talk about? He rummages through his closet while Archie chomps away at his dinner, Armie too preoccupied to mind the water and kibble now littering the floor. He goes through 20 outfit combinations before finally deciding on jeans and a tee-shirt with his favorite knit sweater. It’s casual enough but still makes it look like he put in some effort. He debates ironing his shirt for a good ten minutes. He stops himself, deciding that’s edging on too crazy, and just sets the outfit aside for the evening.

All through dinner and Netflix, with Archie curled up against his side, Armie keeps running through topics of conversation. He needs to have some on hand in the case of a lull and he debates adding coffee preferences to his mental list.

At the sound of his alarm the next morning, Armie shoots out of bed. He’s usually a snooze-for ten-minutes type of guy, but the excitement for the day ahead gets Armie out of bed in an instant. He takes his time brushing his teeth and combing his hair, making sure all his flyaways are patted down. He’s dressed and out the door perfectly on time, Archie even sporting his fancy red leash and collar set, one that looks perfect with his fur.

“You ready, Arch?” he asks as he makes his way down the sidewalk. The little dog looks up at him, tongue lolling out as he trots in step with Armie. “Gonna be a good day, yeah?” Archie gives a little yip of approval, which makes Armie smile.

Armie arrives at their pre-planned meeting spot at exactly 10:59 to find Timmy already waiting there, two Starbucks cups in hand. “Hey,” Timmy calls, bouncing on his toes as Armie approaches. “Coffee for you.” As soon as Timmy hands off the cup, a confirmed caramel macchiato according to the little label, he’s squatting down to pet Archie. “Hey, buddy, so nice to finally meet you,” he coos, gladly accepting some tentative licks to his hand.

“He gets a little shy sometimes,” Armie supplies, watching as Archie patiently puts up with Timmy’s pets.

“He’s so sweet,” Timmy says with a parting kiss to Archie’s head. He pops back up, Armie almost getting a face full of curls. “Ready?”

“Ready.” They set off on a pedestrian path through the park, commenting on the group of sunbathers already out on the grass even though it’s barely 60°. They talk about their families (Armie learns all about Tim’s older sister and his parents, all of whom sound amazing, and Armie even admits that he’s not too close with his family anymore). The conversation never halts or lulls and, about halfway through their walk, Timmy’s fingers brush against Armie’s.

“Sorry,” Timmy stutters, looking over at Armie. He’s flushed from their walk, a nice pink settling high on his cheekbones. His eyes are bright and clear and Armie almost stops right there to kiss Timmy.

Instead, he smiles back and takes Timmy’s hand firmly in his own. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

“This is...God this is surreal,” Tim whispers, looking up at Armie and then away, out toward a nearby playground.

“How so?” Armie asks, looking down at Timmy and quirking a brow. He squeezes Timmy’s hand, trying to reassure him.

“Because I’ve had a crush on you literally since the moment I met you,” Timmy admits, all his words coming out in one long rush of air. “The second I saw you standing outside the orientation room, I thought _God, I hope that’s who is picking me up_ , but then I hoped it wasn’t because I knew I’d make a fool of myself. And then it _was_ you and I tripped over my shoelace on our way to the elevator and I was sure I’d totally fucked up even a friendship with you.”

Armie laughs and shakes his head. “I thought you were fucking adorable. Especially when you tripped. You know, Flo, Sersh, _and_ Greta have been on my case about you since, like, day fucking one?”

Tim’s cheeks turn bright pink and he looks straight ahead, eyes wide. “Oh my God, that’s so embarrassing.”

Armie laughs and shrugs. “Nah, it’s really not. Once you get drunk with them all for the first time, it’ll be totally normal.” He steers them toward a bench so he can give Archie some water. The dog sits down at their feet, steadily ignoring his collapsible water bowl to instead rest his head on Timmy’s leg. “Someone likes you.”

“Yeah, I hope someone _else_ likes me too,” Timmy says, his voice quiet.

Armie takes a deep breath and has to mentally prepare himself for a second before he can actually move his arm enough to wrap it around Timmy’s shoulders. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.

When Tim turns his head, Armie realizes they’re _a lot_ closer than they were a few minutes ago. Timmy is _right there_ , right _fucking_ there, and Armie wants to lean down, close the gap, but his head is swimming and his heart is pounding. He knows he’s staring at Timmy’s lips, but he also can’t drag his eyes away.

“Armie, can I --” Timmy doesn’t finish his question, just leans in and does what Armie was too afraid to do: kisses him square on the mouth. Armie nearly lets go of Archie’s leash, the desire to wind his fingers into Timmy’s hair almost too hard to resist. But Tim’s hands are on his cheeks, soft and cool, and that’s all Armie needs for right now.

Armie, ever so eloquent, whispers, “Holy shit,” when Tim pulls back.

“Yeah, I agree.” Tim leans in to kiss him again, but he starts giggling against Armie’s lips. They pull back to find Archie licking Timmy’s hand like it’s covered in peanut butter.

“Hey, back off my man, Arch,” Armie huffs, glaring at the dog. “He’s always trying to steal my dates.”

“Get back here,” Timmy demands, still laughing, as he pulls at the sleeve of Armie’s sweater.

When they kiss again, Tim’s tongue peeks out against Armie’s lower lip. He opens up to Timmy immediately, licking into his mouth. Tim tastes like coffee and caramel, diluted sweetness from their drinks. He decides he likes the taste of the macchiatos way more on Timmy’s lips. The hand not currently grasping Archie’s leash moves to Timmy’s cheek, drawing him even closer. Armie already loves the way Timmy kisses him, so full of life and passion, just a hint of desperation.

They’re both a bit breathless when they pull back, and they dissolve into giggles. Archie decides he wants to join in, and so he starts yipping from his spot at Timmy’s feet.

“Sorry, buddy,” Tim says, leaning down to scratch Archie’s ear and give the top of his head a kiss. “I’m hogging your dad.”

Armie stands and holds out Archie’s leash. “You wanna walk him?”  
  
Tim looks up at him, eyes wide as saucers. “Me? Really?”  
  
“Sure. If we’re gonna date each other I have to trust that you can take Arch out for a walk.” He’s being incredibly forward, he knows he is, but he can’t help it. He’s incredibly attracted to Timmy, his face _and_ his personality, which hasn’t happened in ages. Armie figures it’s time to be a little forward.

Timmy visibly gulps and reaches out for the leash, wrapping his fingers around it. He’s gripping the red leather so tight his knuckles are white and he looks between Archie and Armie. “You’re _sure_?”

“Tim,” Armie laughs, easily wrapping an arm around Timmy’s waist as he stands up. “Of course I’m sure. Relax, it’s not like he’d run away if you let go. He’s too loyal. Or he just knows I have treats in my pocket.”

That makes Timmy laugh and loosen up a little as they start walking again. They spend a few hours in the park, until Armie’s stomach rumbles so loudly that Timmy can actually hear it. Luckily, Timmy knows of a great deli right nearby and when they re-enter the park they have giant sandwiches in hand. Archie settles down for a nap as they split the sandwiches in half to share. Armie was happy to find out that they have similar tastes, which sets them up perfectly for future meals.

“So,” Timmy says as they walk toward one of the exits after lunch. As much as Armie doesn’t want to cut their date short, it’s getting late and Archie is going to need dinner soon.

“So...I enjoyed this.” They make eye contact and dissolve into laughter. “But I should probably get Archie home. He needs dinner soon.”

Timmy nods and squeezes Armie’s hand. They look down at where their fingers are entwined, the two of them wearing matching smiles. “We can do this again, right?”

“Of course,” Armie murmurs as he steps a bit closer. Tim has to tilt his head up as Armie brings his down, their lips hovering just a hair apart. “Let me take you for dinner next time?”

Tim’s eyelids flutter and Armie unlinks their hands just to wrap his arm around Timmy’s lithe waist. He doesn’t want his date to hit the pavement and holding him up seems like a pretty good idea. Timmy’s hands find their way to Armie’s chest and they seem to fit together perfectly.

“Yes,” Tim whispers. “Yeah, dinner. That’s --” He’s cut off by Armie’s lips, swooping in for a sweet kiss.

Armie is unsure how long they stand there, kissing on the sidewalk, but he only pulls away once Archie starts pawing at his leg. “Okay,” he says gently, more for himself than for Archie. He takes the tiniest step back, separating them just a little while keeping his arm firmly around Timmy’s waist. “You good?”

Tim’s got a bit of a dazed look on his face but he nods. “Yeah. ‘m good.”

Armie laughs and completely steps back after one final kiss, just a firm press of lips. “Text me when you’re home, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.” Timmy is nodding, curls flopping about. He shoves his hands into his pockets and gives Armie a mega-watt smile. “Thanks for today.”

“Thank _you_.” With that, they go their separate ways, Armie heading home with a new bounce in his step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed the update :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come back tomorrow for the final chapter!! thank you all so much for the overwhelmingly lovely comments :) ps did anyone catch my easter egg in greta's email signature ;)

Armie and Timmy have been dating for about a month now, usually meeting for early walks and lunch before a long makeout session, usually at Armie’s apartment, considering he doesn’t have roommates. One time, Armie almost forgot himself and Timmy had to clamp a hand over his mouth just as he brought Armie off. So, yeah, Armie’s is definitely the best place for them.

Flo schedules a happy hour for the office to celebrate the start of summer. She picks a bespoke bar near the office, one of Armie’s favorites. He usually isn’t one for craft cocktails, but the bartenders at this place are magicians, seamlessly working ingredients together to make the perfect sip. As soon as the clock strikes five, Greta and Saoirse are marching out of their respective offices, heels click-clacking as they alert the team that it is absolutely time to close business for the day.

As they head out onto the sidewalk, Armie slips his fingers between Timmy’s. Tim looks up at him, eyes wide and a little frantic, but Armie just sends him a calm smile. It’s not like the entire office doesn’t know. They’d had the discussion with Sersh and Greta after two weeks and went through all the company policies regarding an office romance. Of course, Florence figured it out as soon as Timmy and Armie emerged from the meeting with huge smiles on their faces. So, Armie figures, why hide it. It’s happy hour after all.

“Awww,” coos Flo as she catches up with them. She tucks her lipstick back into her purse after a quick touch up. “How sweet.”

“Shut up,” Timmy mumbles, a pink blush settling over his cheeks. But he’s grinning, which sends Armie’s heart fluttering.

“I barely said anything!” she cries, holding her hands up in defense. “Ugh!”

When they reach their destination, Armie tugs Tim over to the bar and introduces him to his favorite bartender, Susan. Half her head is shaved and she’s covered in tattoos and piercings, and damn she makes a good drink.

“Hey, babe!” Susan calls, reaching out to shake Armie’s hand. “Long time no see!”

“I know, I know. Susan, Timmy. Timmy, the Queen Bartender.” They shake hands and Armie pulls Tim right up against his side afterward. “How’s Holland?”  
  
“They’re good, at home with the baby. Can’t believe he’s four months already.”

“Time fucking flies, man.”

“You can say that again. What can I get you guys?”

“I’ll take a Cobble Hill,” Armie says immediately, knowing he wants the bar’s signature take on a Manhattan. He turns to Timmy. “You?”

“Um...something citrusy, I guess? A little sweet?”

“You like a bee’s knees?”

Timmy nods at Susan’s question and as soon as he does, she gets to shaking, stirring, and pouring. As soon as their drinks are in hand, they rejoin their officemates, Armie’s arm still around Timmy’s waist. It takes a few minutes for Tim to warm up; Armie can tell he’s still trying to be professional even outside of the office. But then he cracks a joke that everyone laughs at and Armie can actually feel Tim relax against his side.

Flo and Saoirse pick on them a little, teasing about their relationship and how Sersh knew it would happen all along. They take it all in stride, Tim laughing as he looks up at Armie. And Armie just can’t help himself, so he leans down to kiss Timmy, just a gentle press of lips, which makes their entire crew cheer.

After their fourth (or was it their fifth?) round of drinks, Armie flops down onto the bench that Tim is currently occupying. “Hello,” he says warmly as Timmy leans on him.

“Hiya.”

Armie laughs and pushes his nose into Timmy’s curls. “You want to come back to my place?”

Timmy glances down at his watch, effectively displacing Armie from his nest of curls. “But it’s close to midnight.”  
  
“I know. Why don’t you stay over?” It’d be the first time they spent the night together, and Armie’s stomach flip-flops at the thought. “I have clothes you can borrow.”

Tim peers up at Armie, eyes wide and bright. “I --” He swallows hard and nods. “Can we leave now?”

That makes Armie laugh and he grabs Timmy’s hand. “We absolutely can. Come on.”

“Leaving so soon?” Greta asks as soon as Tim and Armie are upright. She wiggles her brows and raises her glass. “To the happy couple, eh?”

Armie just rolls his eyes and reaches for his and Timmy’s work bags. “Thanks for the drinks, Greta.”

“Hey!” Saoirse’s head pops up from where she’s leaned over her phone with Florence.

“Yes, yes, you too, Sersh,” Timmy chimes in. “All thanks to our fearless leaders.” Before any other pleasantries can be exchanged, Armie is pulling Tim out the door and immediately hailing a cab. “Armie, wait, we can just take the subwa--”

“Company pays for cabs home after outings,” Armie explains as he pops the door open. “Plus I want to get home as soon as possible.”

“Oh?” Timmy prompts as he slides into the cab. Armie settles next to him and gives his cross streets to the cabbie. “Why’s that?”

Armie grins as he crowds against Timmy, his lips automatically finding that long, pale neck. “I think you know why.” Timmy squirms so Armie puts a hand on his hip, stilling Tim’s movements so that he can resume his kisses.

“Are you going to have your dirty way with me, Hammer?” Timmy breathes, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Precisely.”

As soon as the cab rolls up to his building, Armie pays with great haste before stumbling out of the backseat alongside Timmy. It seems that they’re on the same page, and the elevator ride is fraught with tension, each one glancing at the other with sneaky smiles. Of course, as soon as they’re inside, Archie is all over Timmy, whining for attention.

“That’s a mood-killer, isn’t it?” Armie sighs, kneeling down next to Tim to give Archie some love. “I know, baby, I missed you, too.” His dog walker came to take Arch out and feed him, but he’s always desperate for Armie at the end of the day.

“Nah, he’s sweet,” Timmy coos as he scratches Archie behind the ears. “It’s nice coming home to a dog instead of 3 roommates.”

Armie looks over at Tim, watching as he pets Archie in all the right places, and he can’t help but imagine this as his new reality. He knows that’s taking things way too fast, they’ve only been together for a month, but everything just feels _right_ with Timmy.

“Okay,” Tim says, finally standing up. “I’m just gonna…” He points awkwardly toward the bathroom and hops around the corner, leaving Armie to his own devices for a few moments.

“Aright, Arch,” he says as he pads into the kitchen to quickly wash his hands and face. “You’re gonna be good, right? Gonna stay in the living room in your _own bed_ , okay? You’ve got everything you could possibly need out there.” Archie just licks Armie’s bare toes, which makes him laugh. “Stupid dog,” he says, with all the fondness in the world. “Be good and I’ll buy you a new toy.” He knows bartering with a dog is useless, but when Archie trots off to his own bed, Armie is sure he’s won.

He swishes his mouth out with cold water before taking a deep breath and heading into the bedroom. Timmy is still in the bathroom, so Armie gives his room a quick tidy, fixing the covers on his bed and putting the cap back on his deodorant. He’s about to shove his books and reading glasses into his side table drawer, but he hears the door open. He instead sits on his bed, facing the doorway. Timmy approaches slowly, peering around the door.

“Hi,” he says quietly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“Come here,” Armie says gently, “and shut the door so Archie doesn’t get any ideas.”

That makes Timmy laugh, and he makes sure the door is firmly shut before he makes his way over to the bed. “Good?” Timmy asks, coming to stand between Armie’s legs.

“Very.” Armie’s hands settle on Timmy’s waist and he nudges up his shirt with his nose, pressing gentle kisses to the warm swath of Tim’s belly.

“Armie…” It’s sighed from above, like a little prayer, and Armie drags his lips over Timmy’s skin as he looks up. Tim is looking down at him, eyes hooded, his fingers buried in Armie’s hair.

“Come _here_ ,” Armie repeats, this time tugging Timmy down onto his lap. They giggle as they rearrange themselves on the bed, Timmy now straddling Armie’s lap. “Yes, this is _much_ better.” Armie leans in for a kiss, which Timmy readily returns.

They help each other out of their shirts between kisses. Their pants come next, clothes falling into an indistinguishable heap on the floor. They’ve gone as far as blowjobs, but Armie can tell that something about tonight is different. They shuffle around a bit, finally getting under the covers as the last bit of clothing comes off. Tim’s body is warm and lithe against his, and Armie finds himself pressing forward, seeking more of that heat.

“Timmy,” Armie tries to get out, but Tim is busying himself with kisses to Armie’s neck. “Tim. Timmy, fuck, wait.”

His neck is suddenly cold as Timmy pulls back, looking down at Armie with wide eyes. “Wha--?”

Armie laughs, loving the way Tim is already so blissed out, just from some heavy petting. “I um…” He trails off, not exactly sure how to phrase it. “Do you want?” He trails his fingers from Timmy’s hip to the swell of his ass and figures honesty is the way to go. “I wanna fuck you.”

“Yes.” The word is out of Timmy’s mouth in an instant and then his lips are on Armie’s, ferocious kisses between whispered _yes_ -es.

Armie gently rolls them over and settles on top of Timmy, letting their hips roll together in a brief moment of relief. “If you ever need to stop or slow down,” he murmurs, lips against Timmy’s collarbone. “Let me know, okay?”

“I will, I will,” Timmy assures, reaching over for the lube on Armie’s nightstand. Armie loves how Timmy already knows where it is from their previous escapades. He presses the bottle into Armie’s hand, silently begging.

“Yeah,” Armie breathes, uncapping the bottle and drizzling some over his fingers. Instead of going right between Timmy’s legs, he takes the time to stroke Tim’s cock with his now slick hand, watching as his boyfriend squirms on the bed, the sheets and pillows twisting beneath him.

“Armie,” Timmy whines, dragging out his name. “No fair.”  
  
“Yes, fair,” Armie says, giving Timmy a few more strokes. He figures Tim has had enough teasing, so he moves on, his hand gently cupping and massaging Timmy’s balls before he moves even lower, fingers grazing over his perineum before finding Timmy’s hole. He presses one finger in, hissing at how tight Tim is around it. He lets Timmy know as much, murmured between kisses and gentle fingering. Tim makes these breathy little sounds against Armie’s mouth and firmly lets Armie know he’s ready once he’s up to two fingers.

“I’m sure,” he confirms when Armie asks again. “Please.”

Armie pulls back, his fingers slipping out, and he looks down at Timmy. He looks absolutely angelic, spread out on Armie’s white sheets, hair fanned out over the pillows. As Armie reaches over for a condom, Timmy tucks a pillow under his back, propping his hips up a bit. After wiping his hand off on the sheets, which makes Timmy laugh, Armie finally gets the condom open and on. He slicks himself up, settling on his knees between Tim’s spread legs.

“You’re good like this?” he asks, knowing some people find it easier on their hands and knees.

Tim nods, Armie noticing his flushed cheeks in the streak of light coming in through the window. “Yeah. Wanna be close to you. See you.”

Armie nods and leans over Timmy, supporting himself on one hand and using the other to guide himself in. It’s a slow slide, Armie taking his time and making sure to be as gentle as possible. Once he’s fully seated, he pushes his face into Timmy’s neck and groans as Tim’s fingers dig into his shoulders.

“You okay?” he murmurs, voice muffled by Timmy’s sweaty skin.

“Yeah,” Tim whispers back. He hitches a leg up on Armie’s hip, his heel now digging into the swell of Armie’s ass. Armie experimentally rolls his hips, making both of them groan. “Jesus, that feels good.” Tim’s voice is a bit strained and he holds onto Armie tighter. “ _Fuck_ , you’re huge. C’mon, fuck me.”

Armie laughs at Timmy’s demands and he begins a steady thrust. He pushes up onto his elbows again so that he can look down at Timmy, watching his face as Armie begins fucking him in earnest. His hips stutter when Timmy opens his eyes and smiles up at him.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Armie says as he pushes an errant curl off Timmy’s forehead. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”  
  
“All yours,” Timmy confirms, gasping at a particularly hard thrust. “ _Fuck_ , right there, baby. Like that.”

Armie does just as he’s told, his bed frame hitting the wall as he fucks into Timmy _just so_. He can feel himself getting close, so he reaches down, his hand finding Timmy’s cock hard and leaking between their stomachs.

“So hard for me,” he coos, stroking Timmy as best he can, trying to stay coordinated with his movements. Tim lets out a high pitched whine and he can tell by the way his head is tipped back that he’s _so close_. Armie smiles and leans down to nip along Timmy’s neck. “You gonna cum?”

Timmy just nods, another moan the only warning Armie has before Timmy is clenching around him and cumming all over his hand. Armie strokes Tim through it, until Timmy is shuddering.

“That’s it,” he whispers, rolling his hips very gently, knowing Timmy must be overstimulated. “I got you. I’m so close, Tim, just a few more --” He’s cut off by his own orgasm, his balls tightening as it rolls through him. He pitches forward, collapsing on top of Timmy as he spills into the condom. 

“Fuuuuuck, that was good,” Timmy says, his breath tickling Armie’s neck. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

They stay like that for a while, a tangled, sweaty mass of limbs, until Armie slips out and rolls over. He ties off the condom and tosses it into his trashbin before wrapping Timmy in his arms, collecting him into a sweaty embrace.

“Should clean up,” Tim slurs, but his eyes are closed as he makes himself comfortable on Armie’s chest.

“Should sleep,” Armie grumbles right back. Timmy slings a leg over Armie’s stomach and whispers something unintelligible before nodding off. And, as Armie pushes his nose into Timmy’s curls, he knows he isn’t far behind.

Armie wakes up alone in bed the next morning. He groans as he stretches out like a cat, basking in the strip of sunlight warming up his sheets. He hears someone puttering around in the kitchen, so he guesses Timmy is still here. Armie makes no move to get up, though. He simply stretches out like a cat, groaning as his knee pops. He rolls into the patch of sun letting it warm up his bare chest. He hears a whispered, “Good boy,” in the living room and smiles. _Timmy_.

His bedroom door creaks and Armie cracks open an eye just as Timmy comes in. He’s holding two cups in his hand so he carefully shuts the door with his foot before placing the cups on Armie’s dresser.

“Stepped out for coffee,” Timmy murmurs by way of explanation. He sheds his clothes until he’s left in just his boxers. “Hope that’s okay.”  
  
“I have plenty of stuff to make coffee here,” Armie grumbles, his voice still rough with sleep. He sits up in bed, propping himself up against the pillows as Timmy brings their cups over.

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to wake you. Plus I brought Archie out.”

Armie can’t even muster up a glimmer of hope when he sees the Starbucks cup. He knows it’s going to be a caramel macchiato, why would it be anything different? He resigns himself to taking a few sips, listening as Timmy chatters about something he saw on his walk to get coffee. They’re huddled up, cross-legged on the bed, Armie’s duvet wrapped around them both. Armie nurses his coffee as they talk, taking little sips of it here and there. But Timmy always gets so into whatever he’s talking about that Armie is pretty sure he doesn’t even notice.

Timmy finishes his own coffee almost an hour later and Armie plucks the now empty cup from his hands. He places both on his end table, out of sight behind a lamp, and then pulls Tim close by the waist. Timmy squawks and giggles as he tries to right himself, but Armie is unrelenting. He just pulls Tim under the duvet, enveloping them in a warm cocoon.

“You know what the best part of you staying over is?” Armie asks, looking up at Timmy.

“Hmm...no roommates?”

Armie laughs and nuzzles his nose against Tim’s. “No. Morning sex.”

“Ooh, yes, that _is_ the best part.”

Armie helps Timmy straddle his hips, his fingers running gently over Tim’s thighs. “You feel okay after last night?” he asks, his fingers now moving _up up up_ milky skin. He brushes the pad of his finger against Timmy’s hole, watching as Timmy shivers.

“Yeah,” he breathes, letting his head hang down. His curls tickle Armie’s nose, which he doesn’t mind one single bit. Armie steadies Tim with one strong hand at his waist before reaching over for the lube. “Last night was...really good.”  
  
That sentiment makes Armie’s heart skip a beat and he leans up for a quick kiss. “Mmmh, it was, wasn’t it?” He hasn’t felt this way about someone for a long time. So at ease and so happy. He manages to get the lube open and poured over his fingers before bringing them back to Timmy’s hole.

“I really like being with you,” Tim says as Armie presses his first finger in. “Not just the sex stuff,” he adds hastily. Timmy shakes a curl off his forehead in order to make eye contact with Armie. “I really really like you.”

“Right back atchya,” Armie says easily. He kind of can’t believe they’re having this conversation with his finger up Timmy’s ass, but he realizes he wouldn’t want it any other way. Armie laughs and leans up for another kiss.

“You laughing at me?” Timmy breathes, his lips moving against Armie’s as he talks.

“At us,” Armie clarifies. He presses his middle finger in alongside his pointer and Timmy gasps, giving an experimental roll of his hips. “Feel good?”

“Very.”

They take their time, Armie fingering Timmy until he’s well and truly ready. They both enjoy the slow pace, though, so neither does anything to speed it along. When Armie finally rolls the condom on and then pushes up into Timmy, they both crash into one another, groaning into a sloppy kiss. It feels so _right_ , so _good_ as Armie’s fingers dig into Timmy’s hips. It’s only another moment before Timmy takes control, rolling his hips once he’s fully seated.

“Fuck, Armie,” Tim hisses. He plants his hands on Armie’s chest, fingers digging into soft chest hair. “You feel fucking _good_.” Tim clenches around him before lifting up a bit. He hovers there for a second, sharing a wry smile with Armie, before sinking down again.

It’s slow, unhurried, both of them cumming nearly at the same time.

“Jeeeesus,” Armie hisses afterward, as Timmy slowly lifts himself off Armie’s softening cock. Tim collapses on top of him, surprisingly heavy considering how small he is. But Armie doesn’t mind, even if Tim’s sharp elbow is digging into his ribs. They lay like that for a bit, a tangle of sweaty limbs, until Armie’s chest starts to itch where Timmy’s breath is tickling him.

“Alright,” Armie eventually grumbles. He tugs Timmy’s curls. “I’m gonna make us breakfast.” He glances over at the clock on the bedside table, surprised to see it’s already noon. “Or lunch. You wanna shower?”

Timmy stretches luxuriously over Armie’s chest before rolling off. “Mmh, no. But can I help with lunch?”

“You most certainly can.” They throw on boxers and tee shirts and spend a few minutes petting Archie before heading into the kitchen. “Alright, let’s see,” Armie hums as he opens his fridge. “I’ve got eggs, salad, sliced turkey for sandwiches...how does grilled cheese sound?”

“Sounds perfect,” Timmy says as he opens the loaf of bread on Armie’s counter.

“You wanna put the water on, too? I’ll make us coffee.”

“Mmmh, coffee.”

They work seamlessly together, standing closer than necessary in the tiny kitchen, as they prepare their simple lunch. Timmy handles the grilled cheeses and Armie takes over the coffee. Timmy spares him a surprised glance as he grinds the beans. The coffee, which Armie makes in his French press, is ready just as Timmy plates their grilled cheeses, one with tomato for Armie.

“Okay, I’m only letting you put a splash of milk in this,” Armie instructs as he hands Timmy his mug. “This is good fucking coffee, you won’t ruin it with sugar.” Armie is about to chastise Timmy for rolling his eyes, but then Tim is taking a tentative sip.

“Holy shit. I don’t even think I want milk in it.” Timmy follows Armie over to the little kitchen table and he ignores his grilled cheese for a few more sips of coffee. “This is...amazing.”

“It’s from a roasting company in the Village, it’s just their house blend.” Armie shrugs and takes a sip of his own coffee, sighing at the pure taste of simply roasted and prepared beans. “And it takes less time to make it than going all the way to Starbucks.”

“And it’s a thousand times better,” Timmy says, finally taking a bite of his sandwich. “Thanks, Armie,” he says after he swallows, leaning in to press a kiss to Armie’s cheek.

“You’re welcome,” Armie murmurs over his steaming cup, hoping this is a step in the right direction regarding Timmy’s coffee tastes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> final chapter! thank you all so much for reading and leaving such lovely comments! for anyone following, i should be back with a moment's sunlight update soon :) xoxo

**\- Epilogue -**

Armie weaned Timmy off Starbucks pretty damn fast. Sleepovers at Armie’s became regular occurrences, and so Armie took that as an opportunity to introduce Timmy to different roasts, his favorite local shops, and different preparation methods. When it came time for Timmy to renew the lease with his roommates, he opted to drop out, instead accepting Armie’s offer to move in.

“We’ve been together for a year,” Armie had whispered against Timmy’s ear. “I want you here. You and all your _stuff_.”

“As long as you promise to keep making me coffee.” And that was that, Timmy moved in by the end of the month.

As for R&G, Armie ended up getting promoted to director of the business operations team. After a year and a half, Timmy was wrestling with staying at R&G or taking an opportunity at Facebook. As much as Armie loathed to think about Timmy leaving the company (call him selfish, he liked seeing his boyfriend all hours of the day), he knew Timmy wanted to be in a position where he could really hone in on his creative passions. As luck would have it, a social media project manager was leaving the company, and the perfect role opened up for Timmy. He absolutely _thrived_ , and Armie was so proud to watch his boyfriend grow and learn in his new role.

So they both stayed at R&G, much to Saoirse’s, Greta’s, and Florence’s delight. They were teased mercilessly, although in good faith, by their friends and coworkers. But the day of most teasing came two years after Timmy and Armie started dating. It was a Monday morning and Armie squeezed Tim’s hand, winking at him as they stepped off the elevator and headed toward their respective desks. It was only an hour before Armie heard Florence scream from the other side of the room, suspiciously from where Timmy sits. Armie grinned and made his way over to Timmy’s desk, not surprised to find Saoirse, Greta, Florence, and a few other employees gathered around him.

“Oh my god, _when_?” Saoirse squealed.

“This weekend,” came Timmy’s voice, soft and full of adoration. “We were at our favorite restaurant last night, this little Italian place downtown. We usually go with his friend, Nick, but it was just the two of us. And between dinner and dessert, Armie just…”

“Got down on one knee and popped the question,” Armie supplied, sauntering up to the little crowd.

“Go get the champagne,” Greta demanded, shoving Saoirse in the direction of her office. “We’ve been saving it for _six fucking months_.”

Florence was clutching Timmy’s hand, admiring the simple silver band now on his finger. It was the perfect accessory, one he’d never tire of seeing on Timmy’s finger.

Eventually, the date was set, plans were finalized, invitations were picked out and sent out, and the wedding planning was in full swing. Luca, as the owner of the restaurant where they got engaged, graciously offered his villa in Italy for their wedding destination. After much back and forth, they decided to accept, figuring a small affair in Italy was the perfect way to celebrate.

And so here they are, in Italy for their wedding, along with their closest friends and family. The day before the wedding, Armie decides on a bike ride through the countryside, forcing Timmy away from the binders of information spread out over every available surface.

“But,” Timmy tries as Armie drags him toward the door.

“No _buts_ , Timothée Chalamet, we’re going out. The wedding is tomorrow. There’s nothing we need to do or change, so it’s high time we start relaxing.”

Timmy huffs but follows his fiancé dutifully out to their bikes.

Armie wakes the next morning to an empty bed, but he can hear Timmy in the kitchen. He smiles, reminded of the first time Timmy slept at his place. He hears Timmy saying something to Archie who, of course, came along for the nuptials and would be going back with Nick so that they could enjoy their honeymoon in peace. Timmy comes back in, still dressed in his pajamas, and he settles on the bed next to Armie.

“Morning.”

“Mmh, hello.” Armie rolls onto his side so he can press kisses against Timmy’s neck. “Technically, we shouldn’t even be seeing one another until this afternoon.”

Timmy rolls his eyes and shoves at Armie’s shoulder. “Come on, you don’t believe in all those stupid superstitions.”

Armie is about to answer when there’s a knock on the door. He groans as Timmy shoves him out of bed and he stumbles to answer. He’s greeted with a cacophony, provided by Florence, Nick, and Timmy’s sister Pauline. 

“What are you still doing in pajamas?” Pauline cries out, absolutely aghast.

Nick shoves his way in, suits in hand, and goes directly to the closet to hang them up. Nick wasn’t supposed to bring their suits for another _two hours_ and Armie had really been looking forward to some time in bed with Timmy. “What the fuck…?”

“You think getting ready will take an hour?” Florence asks as she sets up a box of makeup and a whole slew of hairbrushes, a blow dryer, and a curling iron. “We need to get you guys ready, ourselves ready, _and_ have time for pictures.”

Timmy pads in and receives a glare from the three newcomers. “You too?” Nick asks, aghast. “Jesus, it’s your wedding day and you’re just sitting around! Into the shower, both of you!”

Pauline heads straight for the kitchen while Florence ushers them toward the bathroom. “And no funny business,” she says sternly. “Twenty minutes _tops_.”

Once the bathroom door is closed and firmly locked, Armie sags against it in relief. Finally, some peace and quiet, at least for twenty minutes. He tries to jerk Timmy off in the shower, but Tim resists, giggling as he tries to firmly tell Armie that, “Our friends are right outside!” With a few well-placed kisses, Armie eventually convinces Timmy, and they bring each other off with soft gasps and moans under the running water. Their shower ends up being a little over twenty minutes, but when they come into the living room wearing matching sheepish smiles, all is quickly forgiven.

Pauline places two plates of eggs and toast in front of them and demands they eat quickly before Florence can work her magic. From there on out it’s a flurry of busy hands and a never-ending stream of discussion as Florence blow dries Armie’s hair and then works on drying and curling Timmy’s. Armie thinks he’s free after his hair is done and he plans on going out for a cup of coffee, but he’s forced back into his chair so Pauline can apply some coverup under his eyes.

By the time they’re in their suits, Armie and Timmy are sent on their way to the villa where the ceremony and party will be taking place. Armie glances at his watch as he slides into the backseat of the car. “Shit,” he murmurs as Timmy climbs in next to him, careful not to crease his suit. “They were right. We’re gonna be just in time to meet the photographer.”

The next two hours pass in a blur and soon enough, Armie and Timmy are standing under a canopy of flowers. Greta, who was ordained for this very occasion, is officiating the ceremony. They’re flanked by Nick and Florence on Armie’s side and Saoirse, and Pauline on Timmy’s. Archie sits patiently at their feet, looking up at them both with a dopey face. Armie is smiling so hard his cheeks are starting to hurt, but he can’t stop. Timmy is beaming up at him, squeezing his hands, and Armie can’t quite believe this is happening. He’s actually about to marry the love of his life in front of all their family and friends.

“The rings,” Greta requests, reaching out for the two silver bands which Saoirse has tucked neatly in a little pouch. Greta places Armie’s ring in Timmy’s hand and vice versa and then asks them to recite their vows.

Timmy takes a deep breath and Armie gives him a slight nod of encouragement.

“I love you more than I love Nutella on my toast,” Timmy starts, his voice a little shaky. The crowd chuckles and Armie winks at him. “I love you for always believing in me, for making me feel strong, and for helping me to believe in myself. I’m so incredibly lucky to have you in my life, Armie Hammer. You make every day the best day ever, even if we fight over whose turn it is to load the dishwasher. You’ve been the most encouraging, supportive partner I could ever ask for, and I’m forever indebted to Saoirse and Greta for hiring me at R&G in the first place. I can’t imagine my life without you in it and I can’t wait to spend the rest of it married to you.” Timmy slides the ring onto Armie’s finger, sealing his vows with a kiss to Armie’s now adorned hand.

Armie clears his throat before beginning and tries to blink away the tears in his eyes, but the waver in his voice is a clear indication of his emotion. “Timmy, I love your immense capacity for love, whether it’s directed at me, your family, two pigeons on the street, or for your stuffed animals.” Tim’s face flushes pink and he hastily wipes a tear away. “I knew you were the one for me the day I met you, and each day since has only made me surer. I have loved you all the days I’ve known you, and I always will. But I have to admit…” Armie pauses and there’s a sharp intake of breath. “I absolutely despise caramel macchiatos.”

All at once, Timmy gasps, laughs, and gives Armie’s shoulders a playful shove. There’s a bit of confused murmuring from the crowd as the wedding party all bursts into laughter. “How come you never told me?” Timmy shouts, but he’s still laughing.

“I couldn’t bring myself to! I liked you too much and you were being so sweet. I tried to give you so many subtle hints, but you never took them.” Armie squeezes Timmy’s hand, loving the way his ring bites into his finger. “Will you still marry me, Timothée Chalamet?”

“Yes, you absolute _idiot_.”

Armie only has a second to slip the ring onto Timmy’s finger before he’s practically assaulted, Timmy jumping into his arms and leaning up for a kiss.

“By the power vested in me, I pronounce you husbands. I’d say you may kiss the groom, but I guess they already got the memo,” Greta says as Armie wraps both arms around Timmy’s waist. They receive a standing ovation, their lips locked for way longer than necessary before Saoirse and Florence shove them firmly down the aisle.

Dinner and dancing are set up at the back of the house in the courtyard surrounded by peach trees. Florence and Pauline, the self-assigned decorating task force, did a lovely job setting up the long table underneath strings of lights. The table is overflowing with fresh flowers, the two seats at the head adorned with flowers of their own. It’s a perfect night, and the party lasts well into the morning, with plenty of wine, delicious food provided by Luca, and great company.

They finally stumble into their bedroom just past 3 am, opting to stay at the villa for the night before taking off for their honeymoon: a three-week tour of Italy, all planned by Nick and Luca.

“Whoever came up with wedding night sex didn’t have a very good wedding,” Timmy mumbles, barely coherent as he strips and falls into bed. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

Armie grunts in agreement as he climbs in next to Timmy. His feet are sore and his legs are aching, but he’s exhausted in the best way. “It _was_ a good wedding, wasn’t it?” he mumbles against Timmy’s neck. They assume their usual positions with Timmy as the little spoon, easily curling into Armie.

“Love you, my husband.”

“Love you.” Armie hugs Timmy tight, nuzzling his face into sweat-damp curls and pressing a kiss to the back of Tim’s neck before drifting off.

Armie wakes the next morning to the bedroom door clicking closed. He cracks open an eye to see Timmy slipping back into the bedroom, two white to-go cups in hand. “Morning, sleeping beauty,” he whispers.

“Mmh, for me?” Armie asks, pushing himself up in bed. He makes grabby hands toward Timmy, first taking his cup before Timmy settles back into bed next to him.

“Yes, from that place in town you like. I had Florence drop them off, along with some pastries.”

“No Starbucks this time?” Armie teases, inhaling before taking a sip. _Ahh, there’s nothing like coffee in Italy. Especially on your honeymoon._

“You know what? I should have, after yesterday’s revelation. You don’t deserve anything except caramel macchiatos for the rest of your life.”

“As long as I have you for the rest of my life, that’s fine by me.”

Timmy laughs and leans up for a coffee-flavored kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! See you tomorrow for the next chapter!


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